The soft, golden glow of the evening sunbathed the streets of Kolkata as Hasib walked briskly along the footpath, his beloved dog Tommy padding along beside him. Tommy was no ordinary dog—brave, loyal, and with an intelligence that sometimes felt human. Hasib had found Tommy as a stray pup during a monsoon rainstorm two years ago, and ever since, they had been inseparable.
As they approached their modest apartment building, Hasib's phone buzzed in his pocket. He smiled as he saw the name flashing on the screen.
Nafisa.
"Hey, babe," Hasib answered cheerfully, his voice carrying warmth. Nafisa's soft laughter echoed from the other end.
"I was waiting for you to call me first," she teased. "How was your day? Ready for dinner?"
Hasib chuckled. "You know me, I'm always ready to eat. How about we head to that little café by the river later?"
Nafisa's laughter was like music to his ears. "Sounds perfect. I'll meet you at 8."
As Hasib pocketed his phone, he noticed Tommy growling softly. The dog's body had stiffened, his ears perked up. Hasib followed Tommy's gaze and noticed a shadowy figure standing near the corner of the building, watching them closely. The man was tall and wearing a hooded jacket, his face obscured. Hasib frowned.
"Who could that be?" he muttered to himself but dismissed the thought. It was Kolkata after all—there was always someone or something happening.Â
Later that evening, Hasib sat with Nafisa at their favorite café, overlooking the gently flowing river. The lights shimmered on the water, creating a serene and romantic atmosphere. Nafisa looked stunning in her black dress, her long black hair cascading down her back like a waterfall. Her deep brown eyes sparkled under the soft lighting, and Hasib found himself staring at her in awe.
"You look beautiful tonight," Hasib said, his voice filled with admiration.
Nafisa smiled and leaned closer. "You're not looking too bad yourself, Mr. Handsome."
They laughed, and the evening passed with the ease that came from years of love and companionship. But deep inside, Hasib couldn't shake the feeling that something wasn't right. Tommy's behavior earlier in the evening still nagged at him.
Later that night, as Hasib and Tommy made their way back home, the street was quiet, unusually so. They turned into the alley that led to their apartment building, and that's when Hasib saw it—a man, the same one from earlier, standing near the building entrance. His posture was tense, his hands tucked into his pockets. Tommy growled again, his teeth bared.
Hasib's instincts kicked in. "Hey! What are you doing here?" he called out, his voice firm.
The man didn't answer. Instead, he bolted toward the building, making a beeline for the stairwell that led to Hasib's apartment. Hasib's heart raced, and he broke into a sprint after him, Tommy barking furiously at his side. The man fumbled with something in his jacket pocket—Hasib realized it was a set of keys, his own keys.
He felt a surge of panic. How had this man gotten his keys?
Before the man could open the door, Hasib lunged at him, tackling him to the ground. They tumbled across the floor, fists swinging. The man was strong, but Hasib had spent years working out, and his strength gave him the upper hand. Tommy leaped into the fray, biting at the man's arms and legs.
The commotion woke the building's night guard, who rushed to the scene. Together, Hasib and the guard managed to subdue the intruder.Â
"Who sent you?" Hasib growled, his fist gripping the man's collar.
The man sneered but refused to speak.
The night guard shook his head. "I'll call the police."
A few minutes later, the sound of police sirens filled the air. Hasib stood over the man, breathing heavily. His heart was still pounding, but relief washed over him. Tommy sat beside him, panting but looking proud of himself.
When the police arrived, they quickly arrested the man, who remained silent, his eyes cold and calculating.
The next day, Hasib sat in his living room, Nafisa by his side. They had just returned from the police station after giving their statements. Tommy lay at Hasib's feet, his tail wagging lazily.
"You think this was random?" Nafisa asked, concern evident in her voice.
Hasib shook his head. "No way. That guy had my keys. This wasn't random at all."
Nafisa frowned. "But why? Why would anyone want to break into your place? It doesn't make sense."
Hasib leaned back, running a hand through his hair. "I don't know. But something's not right."
His phone buzzed on the table, interrupting their conversation. It was Newton, Hasib's best friend.
"Yo, bro," Newton's voice crackled through the phone, "I heard what happened last night. You, okay?"
"Yeah, we're fine," Hasib replied. "But it's weird, man. This guy was trying to get into my place, and he had my keys."
Newton's voice lowered. "Hasib…you know Alexander, right? The mafia boss?"
Hasib's stomach twisted. "Yeah, what about him?"
"I heard through the grapevine that Alexander's been targeting people with dogs lately. Rumor has it, he's running some messed up operation out of his restaurant. They're using dogs instead of chicken for their biryani."
Hasib's blood ran cold. "Are you serious?"
Newton's voice was grim. "Dead serious. Be careful, man. You might be on his radar."
Hasib hung up the phone and turned to Nafisa, his mind racing. "We need to be careful," he said, his voice hardening. "Something bigger is going on."
Later that evening, Hasib couldn't shake the feeling of unease as he walked Tommy around the block. His eyes darted to every shadow, every passerby. He knew he had to be prepared for anything.
It was then that he noticed a sleek, black car parked a little too close to his building. The windows were tinted, and he couldn't see inside, but his gut told him something was wrong. He quickly turned the corner, Tommy trotting beside him, but he kept an eye on the car.
Suddenly, the car's engine roared to life, and it sped toward him. Hasib's heart raced as he grabbed Tommy and dove behind a nearby dumpster. The car screeched to a halt, and two men jumped out, their faces masked.
Hasib quickly set Tommy down and pulled out his phone to call the police, but before he could dial, the men were on him. One of them swung a metal pipe, catching Hasib on the side of his head. Pain exploded behind his eyes, and he staggered, but he didn't go down. Tommy barked furiously, leaping at one of the attackers and sinking his teeth into the man's leg.
The man screamed, but his partner quickly pulled out a knife, slashing at Tommy. Hasib's heart seized with terror as he kicked the man away, his fist connecting with the attacker's jaw. He was outnumbered, but he fought with every ounce of strength he had.
The night in Kolkata was thick with tension, the air heavy and humid. Hasib's head throbbed where the metal pipe had struck him, but the adrenaline pumping through his veins kept him alert. He stood his ground, staring down the two masked men who had ambushed him. Tommy, blood dripping from a shallow cut on his side, remained by his side, growling ferociously.
The two men hesitated for a moment, clearly not expecting such a fight from their target. But the taller of the two quickly recovered, pointing the knife directly at Hasib.
"You should have stayed out of this, kid," the man snarled, his voice muffled by the mask. "Now we'll have to finish what we started."
Hasib's fists clenched. His mind raced—he couldn't afford to let these men hurt Tommy or himself. He quickly glanced around, hoping to spot something he could use as a weapon. His eyes landed on a loose brick near the edge of the sidewalk.
Without thinking, Hasib made a sudden move, ducking to the side and grabbing the brick. He swung it at the knife-wielding man, catching him across the shoulder. The man let out a yelp, dropping the knife. Hasib didn't give him a chance to recover; he followed up with a punch to the man's jaw, sending him sprawling to the ground.
But the second attacker wasn't idle. He lunged at Hasib with the metal pipe, aiming for his ribs. Hasib barely dodged the blow, but it was enough to knock the wind out of him. He stumbled back, trying to catch his breath.
Just as the second attacker raised the pipe for another strike, Tommy sprang into action. The brave dog leaped at the man, sinking his teeth into the attacker's arm. The man screamed in agony, trying to shake Tommy off, but the dog held firm.
The sound of police sirens filled the air, growing louder by the second. The attackers exchanged a panicked look. With a final shove, the second man freed himself from Tommy's grip and sprinted toward the car, dragging his injured partner with him.
"Let's get out of here!" the first man shouted, his voice filled with fear.
They scrambled into the car and sped off, tires screeching as they disappeared into the night.
Hasib collapsed against the wall, breathing heavily. Tommy limped over to him, his tail wagging slightly despite the pain.
"You did good, boy," Hasib whispered, patting Tommy's head. "You saved us."
The police arrived moments later, and Hasib quickly explained what had happened. The officers took his statement and assured him that they would increase patrols in the area, but Hasib knew better. Whoever these men were, they weren't just common thugs. This was a warning—a message from someone much more dangerous.
After the police left, Hasib sat on the edge of his bed, staring out the window. The city lights flickered in the distance, but all he could think about was the mafia boss, Alexander. Newton's words echoed in his mind.
"Alexander's targeting people with dogs…"
Hasib clenched his fists. There was no doubt now—Alexander was behind the attack. The man was known for his ruthless methods, and if he wanted Tommy, he wasn't going to stop until he got him.
But Hasib wasn't going to let that happen.
He needed a plan—a way to fight back, to protect Tommy and everyone he cared about. But he couldn't do it alone.
He needed help.
The next day, Hasib met with Newton at a small café near the university. The place was bustling with students and locals, but Hasib's mind was elsewhere. Newton, with his usual carefree grin and curly hair bouncing as he talked, was the first to break the tension.
"Man, I told you this Alexander guy is no joke," Newton said, shaking his head. "You're lucky those guys didn't kill you last night."
Hasib sighed, rubbing his temples. "Yeah, but I can't just sit back and do nothing. They'll keep coming after Tommy—and who knows what else they'll do."
Newton leaned back in his chair, sipping his tea thoughtfully. "So what's the plan? You can't just walk up to Alexander's restaurant and demand answers. The guy's a ghost. Nobody even knows what he looks like."
Hasib's eyes narrowed. "That's why I need to be smart about this. We need to find a way into his operation, figure out what he's really up to."
Newton raised an eyebrow. "*We*?"
Hasib smirked. "Yeah. I'm going to need your help. You and Nafisa."
Newton let out a low whistle. "Damn, bro. This is getting serious, huh?"
Hasib nodded. "It's more than serious. It's life or death. But I'm not going to let him get away with this. Not after what they tried to do to Tommy."
Newton sighed, running a hand through his hair. "Alright, I'm in. But we need more than just the two of us. We need someone who knows the underworld better than we do."
Hasib's mind raced through possible allies, and then he thought of someone. A name that made his stomach churn, but also seemed like the only option.
"Shagor," he muttered.
Newton's eyes widened. "You serious? That guy's trouble, man. And I thought Nafisa was done with him."
Hasib clenched his jaw. "I know. But Shagor has connections. He used to run with some shady people back in Dhaka. If anyone knows how to get close to Alexander, it's him."
Newton looked skeptical, but after a moment, he nodded. "Alright. But if this blows up in our faces, it's on you."
Later that afternoon, Hasib met with Nafisa. They walked hand in hand through a quiet park, the tension between them palpable. Nafisa could sense the weight of Hasib's thoughts, and she finally broke the silence.
"What's going on, Hasib?" she asked gently. "You've been on edge since last night. I can feel it."
Hasib stopped walking and turned to face her, his expression serious. "Nafisa, there's something I need to tell you. I think… I think we need to bring Shagor into this."
Nafisa's eyes widened in surprise. "Shagor? Why?"
Hasib sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Because he has connections. He knows how to get close to people like Alexander."
Nafisa's face clouded with doubt. "Hasib, you know how I feel about Shagor. After everything that happened between us…"
Hasib held her hands firmly. "I trust you, Nafisa. I always have. This isn't about the past—it's about stopping Alexander before he hurts anyone else. Shagor is our best shot."
Nafisa hesitated, her emotions warring inside her. She had buried her past with Shagor, but now it was threatening to resurface. Yet, deep down, she knew Hasib was right.
"Okay," she said softly. "If this is what we need to do, I'm with you."
Hasib nodded, his heart swelling with relief. "Thank you, Nafisa. I promise, we'll handle this together."
Two days later, Hasib, Newton, and Nafisa found themselves sitting in a dimly lit room in a rundown hotel near the outskirts of Kolkata. The air smelled of mildew, and the sound of traffic from the street outside barely muffled the sense of danger that clung to the walls.
Shagor entered the room, his dark eyes scanning them with an air of amusement. He was tall, muscular, and dressed in a leather jacket that seemed to accentuate his dangerous aura. His smirk widened as he spotted Nafisa.
"Well, well," Shagor drawled, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Didn't think I'd see you all again, especially *you* Nafisa."
Nafisa tensed, but Hasib stepped forward, his voice firm. "This isn't about the past, Shagor. We need your help."
Shagor raised an eyebrow, leaning against the wall. "Help, huh? What's in it for me?"
Newton crossed his arms, glaring at Shagor. "How about not getting your ass kicked for a change?"
Shagor chuckled. "Relax, curly. I'm just messing with you."
Hasib stepped closer, his eyes hard. "We're dealing with Alexander."
The smile faded from Shagor's face, replaced by a look of genuine concern. "Alexander? You serious?"
Hasib nodded. "He's targeting people with dogs. And last night, his men came after me and Tommy. I barely got away."
Shagor's expression darkened. "You're playing with fire, Hasib. Alexander isn't like the small-time thugs you've dealt with before. He's dangerous."
Hasib's resolve hardened. "I don't care. He made this personal. And I'm not backing down."
Shagor studied him for a moment, then finally nodded. "Alright. I'll help. But if we're going to take down Alexander, we need a plan. A real plan."
Hasib exhaled, feeling a weight lift off his shoulders. "We've already started thinking about that. But we need your connections to get close to him."
Shagor smirked again, but this time there was a flicker of respect in his eyes. "Then let's get to work," Shagor said, his voice low but serious. He looked over at Nafisa, his eyes lingering on her for a moment longer than necessary. Hasib noticed but kept his cool. This wasn't the time for old grievances. Shagor might be trouble, but they needed him if they were going to take down someone as dangerous as Alexander.
They sat down around the small, rickety table in the center of the room, Shagor pulling out a piece of paper from his jacket pocket and laying it flat. It was a crude map of Kolkata, with several locations circled in red. Hasib leaned forward, inspecting the markings.
"These are the spots where Alexander's operation is most active," Shagor explained, tracing his finger over each circle. "His restaurant, obviously, is the front. But he has other places—safe houses, stash points, and a few 'delivery' routes for whatever it is he's smuggling."
Hasib nodded, his eyes narrowing in on one particular spot circled in a bold red ring. "This one… the old warehouse by the docks. What's there?"
Shagor grinned, clearly enjoying the moment. "That's his main distribution hub. If you want to hit him where it hurts, that's where you start. But it's heavily guarded. You're not getting in there without a solid plan."
Newton whistled low. "You're telling me this guy runs a criminal empire out of a restaurant and a few warehouses, and no one's been able to nail him? What's the police doing?"
Shagor snorted. "The police? They're in Alexander's pocket. Half of them are on his payroll, and the other half are too scared to do anything about it. You go to the cops, and you'll wind up dead in the river the next morning. That's how it works here."
Hasib clenched his fists. "So, it's just us. No backup. No one to trust but each other."
Shagor's smirk returned. "Exactly. And I like it that way."
Nafisa, who had been silent throughout the discussion, finally spoke up. Her voice was steady, but there was an underlying tension. "How do we even get close to him? He knows who Hasib is now. His men will be watching."
Shagor nodded, leaning back in his chair. "True. But Alexander doesn't know *me*. And I've got enough contacts on the streets to get us in close—if we play it right."
Hasib's brow furrowed. "What are you suggesting?"
Shagor folded his arms, his expression darkening. "We're not going to go after Alexander head-on. That would be suicide. No, we start small. We find out who his middlemen are—the ones who do his dirty work. If we can disrupt their operations, we weaken his hold. Then, when he's distracted, we move in for the kill."
Newton raised an eyebrow. "Sounds risky. But I like it."
Hasib nodded, feeling a sense of purpose solidifying in his chest. This was no longer just about protecting Tommy or stopping a few thugs. This was about bringing down a monster who had terrorized the city for years. They had to be smart, they had to be careful—but most importantly, they had to be ruthless.
That night, Hasib sat alone in his apartment, the dim light from the street casting long shadows across the room. Tommy lay curled up at his feet, already healing from the attack, his soft breathing the only sound breaking the silence. But Hasib couldn't sleep.
His mind was racing, thinking about everything Shagor had told them. The weight of what they were about to undertake was enormous. Going after a mafia boss wasn't some small-time revenge plot—it was a war. And once they started, there would be no turning back.
His phone buzzed on the table, breaking the quiet. It was a message from Nafisa.
"Are you okay?"
Hasib smiled faintly, touched by her concern, but he could sense the deeper fear behind her words. He typed back quickly.
"I'm fine. Just thinking about everything. It's a lot."
Her reply came almost instantly.
"We'll get through this. Together."
Hasib stared at the message for a moment before responding.
"I know. I love you."
There was a brief pause before Nafisa's final message appeared.
"I love you too. Get some rest. We have a lot to do tomorrow."
Hasib set his phone down and leaned back in his chair, closing his eyes. But sleep didn't come easily. His thoughts kept drifting back to the events of the past few days—the attack, the near escape, and now, this plan to take down one of the most dangerous criminals in Kolkata.
He wasn't afraid for himself. He had faced danger before. But now, there was more at stake. Nafisa, Newton, even Shagor—whether he liked it or not—were all part of this now. And Tommy. He couldn't let anything happen to them.
As the night stretched on, Hasib finally drifted off to sleep, his mind still buzzing with plans, strategies, and the haunting knowledge that the real battle was just beginning.
The following day, Hasib, Nafisa, Newton, and Shagor met again, this time at an old, abandoned warehouse on the outskirts of the city. It was their new headquarters—far from prying eyes and ears.
Shagor had already set up a rough layout of Alexander's operations, and they gathered around the map.
"First target," Shagor began, pointing to a small mark on the map. "This is where one of Alexander's supply chains operates. It's low-level stuff—food deliveries, black-market goods, and sometimes weapons. If we can hit it, we'll be disrupting a key part of his network."
Hasib nodded. "What kind of security are we looking at?"
Shagor shrugged. "Not much. A couple of guards, maybe a few lackeys. They won't be expecting anyone to mess with them. But we'll need to move fast. Once they realize what's going on, they'll call for backup."
Nafisa crossed her arms. "How do we take them down without alerting the rest of Alexander's network?"
Shagor smiled. "We do it quietly. In and out before they know what hit them."
Newton grinned. "You make it sound easy."
Shagor chuckled. "It's not. But that's the fun part."
Hasib looked at his team, his heart swelling with determination. "Alright. Let's get this done."
That night, the streets of Kolkata were quieter than usual. The humid air clung to their skin as Hasib, Nafisa, Newton, and Shagor moved silently through the narrow alleys. The target—a small warehouse used as a front for Alexander's supply chain—was just a few blocks away.
Shagor led the way, his movements fluid and confident. Hasib stayed close, his eyes scanning the surroundings for any signs of trouble. Nafisa and Newton brought up the rear, their footsteps barely making a sound.
As they approached the warehouse, Shagor held up his hand, signaling them to stop. He crouched down behind a stack of old crates and peered around the corner.
"Two guards at the entrance," he whispered. "Armed, but they don't look too alert. We can take them."
Hasib nodded, feeling his pulse quicken. This was it. Their first strike against Alexander. If they could pull this off, they would send a message—that they weren't afraid, and that they were coming for him.
Shagor motioned for Hasib to follow him. Together, they crept closer to the entrance, staying in the shadows. The guards were chatting lazily, completely unaware of the danger lurking just a few feet away.
Hasib's heart pounded in his chest, but his mind was focused. He had to do this. For Tommy. For Nafisa. For all the people Alexander had hurt.
In one swift motion, Shagor sprang into action, taking down the first guard with a well-placed punch to the throat. The second guard barely had time to react before Hasib was on him, slamming his head into the wall and knocking him out cold.
The guards dropped to the ground without a sound.
Shagor grinned. "Nice work."
Hasib exhaled; his fists still clenched. "Let's move."
They slipped inside the warehouse, the smell of dust and dampness filling the air. The place was quiet, but they knew it wouldn't stay that way for long.
As they moved deeper into the building, Shagor suddenly stopped, holding up a hand. He pointed toward a door at the far end of the room.
"That's where they keep the goods," he whispered. "We get in there, destroy the supplies, and get out."
Hasib nodded, motioning for Nafisa and Newton to stay close. They moved toward the door, each step measured, every sound amplified in the silence.
Suddenly, a voice echoed through the warehouse.
"Who's there?"
Hasib froze, his blood turning to ice. A figure stepped out of the shadows—a man in his mid-thirties, muscular, with a scar running down the side of his face. He wasn't a guard. He was something worse. One of Alexander's top enforcers.
"Well, well," the man sneered. "What do we have here? A couple of rats sneaking around where they don't belong."
Hasib's heart pounded in his chest. This was it—the moment of truth. And there was no turning back now.
The enforcer pulled out a gun, leveling it at Hasib's chest.
"Looks like your little plan just went up in flames," the man said, his voice dripping with malice.
Hasib's mind raced, but before he could react, Shagor stepped forward, his eyes cold and dangerous.
"No," Shagor said, his voice low. "*Your* plan just did."
With lightning speed, Shagor grabbed a nearby metal rod and swung it at the enforcer. The man fired a shot, but it went wide, missing Hasib by inches. Shagor's blow connected with the enforcer's head, sending him crashing to the ground.
The sound of the gunshot echoed through the warehouse, and Hasib knew they had only seconds before the rest of the guards arrived.
"Go!" Shagor yelled, his voice urgent. "We need to finish this *now*!"
Hasib didn't hesitate. He kicked the door to the storage room open, revealing stacks of crates filled with goods—food, weapons, supplies, everything that kept Alexander's operation running.
Without wasting a second, they grabbed whatever they could find—tools, crowbars, anything—and began smashing the crates, tearing apart the contents, spilling everything onto the floor.
The sound of running footsteps echoed through the warehouse, but they kept going, working furiously to destroy as much as they could before the reinforcements arrived.
Just as they finished smashing the last crate, the door burst open, and a group of armed men stormed in.
"Get down!" Nafisa shouted, pulling Hasib to the ground as bullets whizzed overhead.
They were pinned down, trapped in the storage room with no way out.
Hasib's heart raced. This was it. They had succeeded in their mission, but now they were surrounded.
But Shagor wasn't done yet.
He pulled a small device from his pocket—a homemade bomb.
"Cover your ears," he said, his voice calm despite the chaos around them.
He tossed the bomb into the center of the room, and for a split second, everything went silent.
Then, the explosion rocked the warehouse, sending shockwaves through the building. The armed men were thrown off their feet, the walls shuddering from the blast.
When the dust cleared, Hasib, Nafisa, Newton, and Shagor stood up, coughing and blinking through the smoke.
The way out was clear.
"Let's go!" Hasib shouted, grabbing Nafisa's hand as they sprinted toward the exit.
They burst out into the cool night air, their hearts pounding, but a sense of victory swelling in their chests.
They had done it.
The first blow against Alexander had been struck.
And this was just the beginning.
To be continued...Â